


Round of Applause

by Tashilover



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Angst, Physical Trauma, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 04:06:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4691426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur adjusts after a trauma.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Based off of a prompt from the CP meme</p>
            </blockquote>





	Round of Applause

Arthur has always known he wasn't the brightest crayon in the colouring box. But he always prided himself on being useful. Not a waste a space. If he didn't cook the meal, the least he could do was serve it. He could clean, carry the heavy loads, and lend a hand to whoever needed it.

Now, he didn't have a hand.

In the beginning he was grateful the accident only took his lefty. He was right handed and had thanked his lucky stars he could still write and draw.

It was an adjustment.

Instead of carrying the coffee tray by the handles, he carried it by one hand while his left arm held it from the bottom.

Dressing in the morning took extra time. Sure fastening buttons was insanely difficult, and zippers were just as hard, but it was still do-able. No problem.

He could still drive. He could still use his touch phone, his i-pod, the computer, read a book- frankly, having a left hand was overrated. He was fine. Everyone was overreacting.

It didn't really hit him till two weeks later. Today was a flight day. Arthur was excited; this was his first day back on Gerti since the accident. He wanted to see Martin and Douglas, wanted to hear their friendly banter. He wanted to smell the familiar scents of Gerti's weathered seats and hear the sounds of the engines roaring. He happily followed his mum out of the house that morning, going to the car, when he felt his shoe come loose.

"Oh, hold on, mum!" Arthur cried out, bending down to one knee. "My shoelace came undone!"

He reached forward to tie his laces, and stopped.

There was his right hand, extending out, fingers curled, ready to help. But on his left, there was nothing. His shirt sleeve was pulled taunt over the stump, hiding it from view. He thought about when he was child and he would tuck in his arms inside his shirt, pretending he lost his arms.

This was different. He couldn't pull down his sleeve and reveal his hidden hand.

"Arthur?" He heard his mum say, coming closer.

As silly as he acted sometimes, Arthur knew he was not a child. He was a grown man and he hadn't need to ask for help to tie his shoes since he was eight. Now here he was, thirty years old, and he was going have to ask his grey-haired mother to tie his shoe for him.

It was too much.

He tried to cover his face as tears welled up in his eyes, only to bump his stump against his chin. It was so embarrassing, so humiliating, and he curled up on himself, wanting the earth to swallow him whole.

"Arthur?" His mother's warm, fragile hand was on his back, rubbing soothing circles. "Oh, dear heart, what's wrong?"

Arthur looked up at her, red in the face, sniffling. "I can't tie my shoe," he whimpered pathetically.

"Silly boy," his mother cooed softly. She pulled out her blue handkerchief from her suit pocket and handed it over. Arthur took it quietly, and dabbed his face. He internally cringed as he watched his mother bent down to her knees and swiftly tied his shoe for him.

"You know," she said. "You are allowed to ask for help."

"I'm a full grown man," Arthur said, frowning. "I shouldn't be asking for help to tie my shoe."

"And I'm a grown woman. And I still have to ask for help sometimes to walk down the stairs, to open a jar-"

"But you're older than I am."

"I've had problems with my knees long before you were born, Arthur. We understand that this," she gently touched his stump. "Will take some time getting used to. You're always so willing to help us. Now allow us to help you."

Arthur took a breath, held it, and let it loose. He sniffled. "Okay..." he said. "Okay."

"That's my boy. Now help me get off this ground."

Arthur stood and held out both his arms. His mother grasped his right hand gently, his left forearm gently, and pulled herself up.


End file.
